Snap
by Ruby-Wednesday
Summary: Snap decisions have devastating consequences. Edward makes a different choice on Bella's first day of school and learns the hard way that two wrongs can never make a right. A two-part dark AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is just an idea I got that I ran with - just a possibility of what could have happened on Bella's first day of school. Obviously, the likelihood and characterisation is questionable but it works for me. I've had this outlined for quite a while (before BD was released and MS was leaked) and that may have affected my perspective. Regardless, I hope people enjoy it for what it is and heeded my warnings that it is dark.

It picks up towards the end of the first chapter of Twilight/MS which is in italicized text. There also some other recognizable lines from the series. No copyright infringement intended.

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_Bella Swan stood with her back pressed to the wall beside the door, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. Her eyes were even wider than usual as she took in my ferocious, inhuman glare._

_The smell of her blood saturated every particle of air in the tiny, hot room. My throat burst into flames._

_The monster glared back at me from the mirror of her eyes, a mask of evil._

Then the expression in her eyes changed, moving from fear to decision. She stepped forward with deliberate slowness, keeping her gaze averted away from mine. I was frozen in place. The monster raged in my head but I was willing myself not to reach out and grab her as she walked by. This human was surprising indeed, not that it would matter for too much longer. Most kept their distance but here she was walking right into the belly of the beast. She thrust the sheet of paper at Mrs. Cope, who had been silenced by the strange scene unfolding in front of her.

Then Bella turned and fled from the room. She was smarter than I had given her credit for.

Though it lingered, her scent was no longer strong enough to drive me to distraction. I summoned enough control to turn to the confused administrator and end this fruitless conversation; the pathetic attempt to avoid the girl who was torturing me.

"Nevermind then. I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." I leaned close to her when I spoke, making the most of her inappropriate fixation on me. Hopefully, that would be the memory that stayed in her shallow mind and not the image of Bella fleeing in terror. That would be inconvenient if this ended the way my senses wanted it to.

I too, turned and fled the stuffy office. As if I was tracking her, I followed the inviting scent of the new girl. Of course, we were both headed in the direction of the parking lot but it was hard to prevent my instincts from taking over. The vampire side of me fought to break into a proper run and chase down the prey just a few yards in front of me. She was jogging, clumsily, to the direction of a unfamiliar red truck. I could have closed the distance in less than a second if I wished.

I _wasn't _following her. I just couldn't look her away. She was a magnet, pulling me towards her.

She glanced backwards. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw me walking behind her. She accelerated her speed which almost made me smile. As if she could outrun me.

I fought harder to keep my speed in check. It was incredibly frustrating to not have the faintest idea of what was going through her mind. Had the monster really taken over so much to make her see she should fear me? Surely my eyes were black with thirst. My mask was crumbling to reveal the feral expression of bloodlust but I tried to remain composed. Or was she intuitive enough to sense that I was evil?

The trickle of cool rain and the swell of fresh air outside was a welcome relief. It calmed my senses. Droplets dripped from my hair onto my face but I didn't brush them away.

I hadn't planned to follow her. It wasn't a conscious decision. But her blood called to me like a siren song. I was truly fascinated. Every change in expression and flash in her brown eyes was captivating. She was a mystery.

Would that be enough to save her?

Yes, I decided. She would be saved, this innocent fragile girl whose only crime was being assigned the wrong seat in biology class. I _couldn't _falter now. I wasn't trying for my own benefit, nothing would have made me happier than to quench my thirst with her blood. To be close enough to her warm body to feel her heartbeat. I wasn't trying for her benefit either, not really. She was no-one special in the grand scheme of things. I just didn't wish to disappoint my family, especially Carlisle. I wanted to make him and Esme proud. I wanted to be strong.

But what happened next proved once and for all just how weak I truly was.

Bella Swan glanced around one more time. She seemed panicked , flustered as she fumbled for her keys. It was clear she thought I was pursuing her.

She was right.

Distracted my inability to leave her alone, she stumbled and tripped on the curb. Once again, I acted without thinking. I didn't stop to think of witnesses. The instant she lost her balance I began to run at full speed. My hands shot out automatically, trying to catch her before she fell. I reached her side just as she hit the ground. I heard her knee crack against the pavement and there was a split second when her eyes met mine.

I couldn't tell why she was surprised. If it was the shock of the fall or the notion of her pursuer coming to her rescue. Her eyes entranced me, a deep brown that was warm and expressive. A million miles away from the flat black of mine.

The moment….connection, I couldn't describe it, was abruptly obliterated when I smelled _it. _Her blood was seeping through the fabric of her jeans. I had fantasized about it all afternoon. Now that it was flowing freely the scent was even more mouth-watering than I had imagined. It was like water to parched man, a drug to an addict, the finest brandy to an alcoholic. I no longer had a choice in the matter. I had to have it now. Nothing else mattered.

Venom pooled in my mouth. Every muscle in my body twitched to lunge at her. I ached to taste her as I crouched instinctively. I was ready to capture my prey.

'_I'm late for detention. Mr. Green will give me another session now for sure'_

The thoughts of a nearby student reached me, making me realise we were in an extremely public location. No-one could see us, crouched between the truck and another car. However they would definitely hear her screams. I stopped breathing again. I at least owed it to my family to do this somewhere private. I owed it to myself to savour the experience.

So using every ounce of control I had I pulled the girl to her feet. The warmth of her small hand was shocking, a hint of the pleasure her blood would bring me. I looked at the growing crimson stain on her knee. What a waste. A reminder of the way blood rushed to her cheeks when she blushed earlier. The symbol of her humanity was enough to make me feel guilty for what I was about to do. It wasn't enough to make me stop, just to prolong the inevitable.

She was silent the entire time. Paralysed by fear, I supposed.

"Let me help you," I said. I surprised myself with how even my voice sounded. "That was a bad fall."

"Th…thanks." she stammered. "But I'm fine." I imagined she was questioning my sudden moodswing.

"Nonsense." I dismissed her protests and swept her into my arms. She was as light as a feather and so _warm. _This would be worth it.

She didn't struggle. Perhaps she knew there was no point.

"My truck…" She gestured to the decrepit vehicle but I was already walking.

"My car is right here." I breathed for a moment, letting my breath fan across her face to disorientate her. I walked in the opposite direction of my Volvo toward the edge of the woods. Any minute now the children would spill out of the school, celebrating the end of another day. I did not need them to see me carry this girl to her death. They did not need to see that.

As soon as we reached the cover of the trees I broke into a run. Bella stiffened in my arms and beat her small fists against my chest. I felt her panic but not one of the blows made a difference. Once we were far enough from civilisation I stopped and set her down beneath a tree. I could wait no longer to claim my victim.

Moss and trees and wildlife and earth. It was all there. Present to the world but not to me. Nothing but her.

Her skin had grown paler now making the pulse of her veins even more prominent below the surface. The beat hummed in my ears. She scrambled backwards against the tree, clutching her stomach with one hand. Shook her head frantically as tears welled in her eyes.

The monster inside rejoiced as I leaned over her. She didn't even flinch when I brushed her hair away to give me free access to he neck. It was softer than I would have thought. She didn't struggle when I crouched over her and gathered her wrists in one hand.

I skimmed my nose along her jaw. It was a relief to see the paper delicacy of her eyelids. I didn't want to see the terror in her eyes and have it mar this moment. I was equally relieved that her thoughts were still silent to me. I covered her mouth to silence the screams I knew would come.

Fruitlessly, she gave one final attempt to struggle. Kicking her legs, thrashing her body. Her jaw was clenched with despair and frustration and she shook her head as she fought.

A waste of time and effort, though some part of me took a moment to admire her guile.

I was sick of her withholding this from me. That blood was mine. _Mine. _I couldn't let it's vessel be an obstacle any longer.

I tightened my grip on her wrist. Something snapped. A wordless scream hit the palm of my hand.

_Stop making this difficult! _My senses screamed at her, at me.

She continued to twist and resist. Talk about inconvenient. I hauled her upright by the waist and pushed her against the tree. My body was a cage against the bark, trapping her completely. I heard the faint sound of fabric tearing. Branches tore her coat, seams split when I stretched her arms.

One of my hands - or was it even mine? My brain and body were seemed so detached- held her arms high above her head. The other gripped her hip, stopping her kicking and keeping her close.

She stopped fighting, started to tremble when I lowered my mouth to her neck. She never opened her eyes and a lone tear swam down her cheek. It reached her jaw and I couldn't resist flicking my tongue out to catch it.

She tensed and stilled. Her stance was defiant but she had stopped fighting. She was accepting her fate.

I let myself breath again and took in one last gulp of the floral aroma wafting from her blood.

"For what it's worth," I told her. "I am sorry."

I sank my teeth into her flesh.

The taste of her blood was even better than I envisaged. Better than I could have dreamed.

Filled my mouth and coated my throat as thick as honey

It was ambrosia from the gods.

An oasis in the desert.

Rainfall in a drought.

Sweet. Delicious. Warm.

_Mine._

It was so fulfilling. The best experience of my pathetic life. I wished to savour the moment but I had lost all control. I drank deeply, greedily, pulling her limp body even closer to mine.

Who would have thought such a seemingly insignificant girl would taste so amazing?

The world disappeared as I feasted on her blood. The essence of her life ran through my dead body. It made this empty shell warm. I never imagined I could feel this high. It was pure ecstasy.

And like every other good thing I had experienced, it was ripped away from me.

I was so absorbed in feeding that I didn't hear them approach. I was only alerted to my family's presence when I was pulled off the girl. Emmett stopped me, wrapping his hulking arms around me to keep me restrained.

"No!" I roared in protest, struggling with all my might. "I'm not done!"

I wasn't finished. There was blood still flowing. Her warm delicious blood was dripping onto the dark earth.

Rosalie and Alice blocked my vision of Bella. They stood over her, checking her status. But I could still smell her and I thrashed against Emmet's stranglehold.

"_Stop breathing." _he ordered. "_Calm down… I wish Jasper was here."_

I ignored him. I had already gone too far. Why should I let the rest of her blood be squandered among the worms in the ground? I was already going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.

"_Stupid fool," _thought Rosalie. I would have expected her to be furious but she sounded rather smug.

Alice's mind was a cacophony of worry and self derision. She was angry at herself for not seeing this sooner and she frantically searched her visions to see possible outcomes. The only outcome I wanted was the rest of my meal. I snapped my teeth at my brother. I twisted and thrashed against him but he only held me tighter.

Rosalie stood between us as Alice bent down and lifted Bella into her arms. It was as if Rose was daring me to challenge her. Little Alice cradled my victim protectively and the enormity of what I had done weighed down on me. The high was over. I was crashing to the ground and into the pits of hell.

Bella Swan was unconscious. I was so consumed with my desire I hadn't noticed when she had passed out from the pain. It was a blessing to us both. She wasn't suffering and I didn't have to listen to her scream. The wound on her neck was still oozing, gaping from where I tore at it with my teeth. One of her wrists hung at a strange angle, broken from the force I had exerted on it. I could see the outline of my palm across her mouth.

I knew she was dying. Slowly and painfully. And it was all my fault.

My struggles ceased immediately. Emmett was no longer restraining me but supporting me. I had become everything I never wanted to be. The very worst kind of monster who heartlessly slaughtered an innocent girl. I could still taste her blood on my lips but it brought me no pleasure. It was a harsh reminder of what I had done. I knew I would never taste anything that good again. Animal blood would never satisfy me.

Alice, my closest sibling, hadn't said one word or directed any thought towards me the entire time. Without warning, she turned her back on us and began to run. I moved to follow but Emmett stopped me.

"What is she doing?" I roared. She shouldn't be taking Bella away from me.

"Cleaning up your mess." replied Rosalie scathingly. "Did you think we were just going to leave her here to rot?"

Right. Leave no evidence.

"_Edward, if I let you go you have to promise not to do anything reckless. We are going home to Carlisle. Just follow me." _

Emmett's internal voice was softer than I ever heard before. I nodded in agreement, no longer having the energy to fight. He released me and without another word we ran home.

As I ran, I felt none of the freedom or exhilaration I usually experienced. An overwhelming sense of shame was weighing me down. My arms felt strangely empty now as I remembered what it was like to carry Bella's warm body against me. She would be cold by now.

All too soon, the white house I called home came into view. My car was parked carelessly in the driveway. Jasper must have driven it home. The thoughts of my family reached me as I approached.

"_How will he recover from this?" _Esme worried, as was her nature to.

"_So much to do.."_ fretted Carlisle. "_There'll be a search party, an investigation. I pray there are no witnesses."_

"_Such pain…such anxiety. I don't think I can stay much longer. I need to hunt." _ mused Jasper.

And then Alice? What was she doing here? She should be disposing of the body.

"_She'll be more comfortable here. I would put her in Edwards room but we'll need the bed. This will work. I know it will."_

I could smell _her _again. The floral scent wasn't as potent now. She had lost so much blood. But is was still as sweet, still as enticing.

I ran into the house, past my parents and straight up to the guest-room. Flickers of Alice's visions invaded my mind. Shame turned to rage. But how could I be angry at anyone but myself?

Alice saw Bella, writhing and screaming in pain as venom, my venom, burnt through her veins. She saw her heart slow and stop. Then she saw her wake up, with red eyes darting in panic. Then finally she saw Bella take my hand and run with me into the forest.

A fate worse than death.

I burst into the room, not bothering to use the handle. I ignored the tiny form in the centre of the bed, afraid that I wouldn't be able to control myself and attack again. I marched towards Alice, stopping only centimetres from her. I leaned over her, looking into her golden eyes and seeing only pity. She did not back down from me.

"You can't do this. It's not our place to decide her fate. We can't damn her. I won't let you do this." I raged.

"_I _am not doing anything, Edward, other than trying to rectify this horrible situation." she replied tartly.

"You're interfering as usual! And you're wasting our time. There won't be enough blood to facilitate a change." I challenged. I had drank too deeply. She couldn't survive this.

A wave of calm hit me, bringing me out off my rage. Jasper was at the doorway trying to soothe me. But there was an edge to his thoughts.

"_Back off, Edward. Do not take your anger out on Alice."_

Feeling terribly useless, I stepped away from my sister and slumped down against the wall. A clock ticked loudly. It had been less than an hour since school had finished and I had turned our lives upside down.

I was numb. After a day of extremes, terrifying highs and crashing lows, I was mentally exhausted. There was nothing left, no room for anything in my mind but disbelief. Perhaps this was how humans felt when they went into shock? I could still feel her blood in my body though. There was no way to erase that feeling.

Carlisle and Esme joined us in the room. They kept their thoughts carefully controlled. I knew this was a consideration I didn't deserve. I wanted to hear their disgust. I deserved everything they could throw at me and more. Esme touched my arm. It was meant to be comforting but I flinched away. I didn't deserve her comfort. She turned her hurt eyes away from me and walked over to the bed. She began to press a damp cloth against Bella's forehead.

Everyone else looked at me expectantly. What did they expect me to say? No amount of apologies or excuses could justify my actions. But still they waited.

"Why is she so quiet?" I asked finally.

"I administered morphine." Carlisle answered. I recognised that tone. This was Dr. Cullen speaking, not the voice of my father. "She's very weak so it's just a small amount. It won't last long."

I nodded.

His voice softened then. "Are you alright?"

I nodded again. Why couldn't I find my voice?

"Did anyone see?" he pressed.

I shook my head and Carlisle let out an audible sigh of relief. Without help from Jasper the tension disappeared from the room. Almost.

"I'm going to hunt for a while." announced Jasper. "This is going to get worse before it gets better."

He exited the room with Alice. The couples always hunted together. I hunted alone. Esme left too, her mind entirely occupied with sorting out the mess I had made. I was alone with Carlisle; my creator, my mentor. I suddenly felt like a child again.

"_What happened, Edward?" _he asked, sitting on the floor behind me.

"I lost control." I replied. There was no emotion in my voice.

"_I can see that. What drove you to this?"_

"I can't explain it properly. I don't have the words," I answered flatly. "The scent was so enticing. It called to me. I tried to resist but I….was unable"

I was weak. I failed myself and my family. Carlisle's mind was far away. In Italy, to be exact as, he remembered old friends discussing the inexplicable phenomenon of '_La Cantante'. _Is that what Bella Swan was to me, my singer? I supposed it made sense, not that it mattered. None of it mattered.

On the bed her tiny, almost-lifeless form began to stir. Tiny movements, the sound of cotton brushing, that would have gone unnoticed by a human. Her body was still quite motionless but her head moved the side, like someone waking from a deep sleep. Or maybe a nightmare.

Carlisle was not watching her, his focus was trained on me, wondering at the way I looked at her so intently. Did he think I had no compassion whatsoever? I may have been the cause of her pain but I did not relish it. It was upsetting to see.

Then Bella's eyes flashed open, wide brown and questioning. Before I knew it, I was on my feet and at her bedside. Her body was very still. She didn't speak, she probably was unable, but I saw a hundred emotions in her expression-fear, confusion, agony…then relief? Impossible. I must have misinterpreted the change in her face when she saw me. I was so used to having thoughts guide me, I must have been mistaken.

I knew she was in pain, but still she held very still. Carlisle's thoughts were pleased, he thought the morphine was still in effect. I didn't bother to tell him of the truth. In again eyes, I could see she was in agony. They were darting, scrunching…blazing. There was no question about it. She was on fire. Deep inside her body, she was burning. All inflicted by me. I might as well have poured gasoline over her and lit a match.

"_How is she?" _Carlisle questioned. What a stupid question. She was dying an agonising death, how did he think she was? I didn't answer. Instead, I brushed back a sticky clump of hair that had stuck to her cheek. It exposed the crusted bitemark on her neck to me and I was sorry I had bothered.

"Edward?" Carlisle spoke aloud this time. His lilting accent even gentler that ever. "What is she thinking?"

"I can't hear her," I whispered without turning to face him. Shock was evident in his thoughts.

"At all? In school?" he pressed.

I shook my head. I was being rude. I should have turned to look at my father. But I found it to be physically impossible to tear my eyes away from hers. Lightly, I let my fingers graze along the mark I had inflicted. It seemed to me, by her expression at least, that it gave some sort of relief. That my freezing touch could help soothe the fiery venom that ate away inside her.

Then a wave of pain racked through her. She clenched her jaw shut and her muscles tensed. She looked at me desperately, like she expected me to do something about it. I wished I could. There had to be another option.

"_Perhaps some more morphine…" _Carlisle thought. I knew how much he hated to see human suffering, how much he wished to help. He was still trying to figure me out. "_Do you need some time?"_ he asked silently.

I nodded once and he walked towards the door. "_I'll be downstairs. Call me if you need anything,"_

I don't think his exit even registered with Bella. Her eyes never left mine.

"It burns," she choked out then, her voice a throaty whisper. "It burns-"

"I know."

I felt it too.

I had to do _something. _Acting, once again, without thinking I lowered myself onto the bed with her. Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes. Surely this lifeless body could be good for something. I hoped my icy skin could bring even the tiniest amount of respite from the fire. I remembered just how much it burned.

She didn't protest. I would have thought the normal reaction would be to push me off. Then again, after today all my conclusions about normal reactions were obsolete. I didn't know anything anymore. All I knew was that the girl, the warm innocent girl, was quietly suffering. It was solely my fault and there was nothing I could do about it. If there was anything I hated, and I knew my own flaws well enough to admit this, it was feeling like I had no control. I was powerless, impotent, helpless.

She opened her eyes and locked them with mine again. I wondered did she notice the effect of her blood on them yet.

The room was strangely still. By rights, it should have been a bloody, violent rage. A crimson storm. Instead, the only activity was her shallow breathing and weak heartbeat.

The closeness of my position above her struck me then. Why wasn't she flinching, screaming and pushing me off her? I had never lay in bed with a female before, no matter how many attempts Tanya had made. Sure, I was physically close to other people, in an platonic way. When Alice made me try on clothes, wrestling with Emmett, when Esme taught me to dance. But this was more intimate somehow. The air was charged with tension, our proximity was palpable.

A killer and his victim, that must be the only explanation. This wasn't the kind of closeness shared between a woman and man. It couldn't be.

"Am I dying?" she whispered.

I couldn't answer her. How could I look her in the eyes and tell her I was killing her? Part of me was blistering through her veins.

"Am I?" she repeated, her voice cracking with the pressure of her anger. "Tell me!"

I couldn't tell her that. But I couldn't lie to her either. So I nodded my head in confirmation. Whatever the outcome, she would be dead in a sense.

"I knew it," she gasped. Her weak heartbeat was struggling. "I'm only 17. I'm too young to die,"

So was I.

"I don't understand," she continued. "How can I be?"

Because I sucked the life out of you.

"I've never done _anything. _I've never danced in public, I've never gotten drunk, I never got to graduate or see the world. I've never even been kissed.." she trailed off and a desperate sob racked her body. She clutched at my collar with her good hand, urging my face closer to hers. She still smelled delicious. It made me want to retch.

"How can I be dying when I've never even lived?"

I had no answer to that.

Another tremor ruptured through her. Lava and venom and pain. I found my body moving too, racked with a silent sob.

Her tiny hand still clutched my collar. There was dirt under her fingernails. Twigs in her hair. Her clothes were bloodied and torn.

_Oh God, what have I done?_

She shifted again, burning. One of my legs fell in between her thighs.

"Never.." she muttered incoherently. "Never ever. Nevermore. Nothing ever. Neverland. Never been…"

Her eyes flashed. I knew that look. Determination.

Her knuckles were bone on my shirt. Her hold was steadfast. I let her pull me closer.

She raised her wounded neck off the pillow and crashed her lips to mine.

Fuck.

She was hot and torture and life and pleasure. Her lips were soft, so soft, and pliant and giving.

This was Bella. Isabella Marie Swan. Not a singer or a girl or a vessel. A person.

_Mine._

Had she really never done this before? She was so good at it. Her lips were moving, closing and opening. Gasping and hungry. I could taste her breath.

She squeezed her legs around mine. Her hand left my collar and her nails dug into the back of my neck. I almost felt a sting.

She tangled her fingers in my hair and pulled. Pulled again until it smarted a little. That was good.

She sucked my bottom lips between hers and sighed. I copied her. The warmth of her inside me - her lips in mine, her blood in me - was divine in a base way.

Her wet tongue traced the outline of my lips. I parted them willingly. Instinct had taken over. _Again._

She bit my lip and I groaned. The devil is in the detail. She nipped and nibbled and I was almost helpless. Almost.

I slipped my tongue into her mouth. So hot. Made it twist and fight and tangle with hers. What was some more venom anyway?

She gave as good as she got. Battling for dominance and I let her win this one.

It was the urgency that got me. The frantic non-rhythm to her actions. It was not a kiss of a lover or a friend. Or of lust or love. Or even loneliness, desperation, needing to connect. Any of the commonplace motivations I saw in the thoughts of others.

It was the kiss of a condemned woman and I was the executor. The one who lit the stake.

So I had to stop. I had to pull away and just hold her body while she shook in agony.

When that wave subsided, she was eerily still. Too silent. Not something I was used to.

I wanted to ask her what she was thinking but knew I didn't deserve to know.

"That was my first kiss," I told her because it felt appropriate.

I could tell she wanted to raise her eyebrows and shake her shoulders in a laugh, but her body wouldn't let her.

My doing.

She writhed beneath me in agony.

My fault.

There had to be another way.

I had taken so much from her. Her blood. Her first kiss. Her innocence. Her life as she knew it.

I took the sparkle from her eyes.

If this continued, I would damn her to a soulless existence. She would hate me and it would be justified.

Her eyes closed and her body sagged. Blood filled and gargled in her lungs. Her pulse weakened and spluttered.

She'd be a monster as I was. Moving but not living. An empty shell. No soul.

She deserved more. She was better than this. Than me.

I had taken so much. Too much. Could I take this final step? Make one more decision. Do something halfway right.

Could I….save her?

I leaned down to the crusty, oozing wound on her throat. I licked it once, to savour the taste one last time and seal it close.

In her ear, I whispered earnest words and I hoped she was conscious enough to understand.

Somewhere across the river I heard Alice shriek.

Then, I placed one hand on either side of her head and snapped her neck.

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This is where I'm going to beg for reviews. If you had any reaction at all please let me know. Or questions, I'll do my best to answer. Part 2 is pending. Apologies for any typos.


	2. Chapter 2

_Firstly, I would like to thank everyone who took the time to review. I appreciate it more than I can say. _

_Secondly, I struggled with the second part a bit more than the first. I'm still not entirely happy with it. The tone is much different as Edward is in a different mind-frame. Also it covers a much longer time period. The sparsity it also deliberate. _

_Thirdly, I think it's clear I know nothing about biology or anatomy. The references are only a device to break up the time and show some of Edward's turmoil._

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_Mortis_

It was a clean break. Just like the forest twigs that snapped underfoot. Quick, quiet, broken. Yet, it roared and echoed like thunder.

Her body went limp beneath me as the scream of fractured bone went through the house.

Downstairs, Esme and Carlisle leaped to their feet. They knew what the noise meant. Esme wanted to come up to me, even at my worst she wanted to give me comfort I didn't deserve.

"No," I heard Carlisle say, putting a gentle restraining arm across his wife. "Let him be."

They sank back down onto the pristine white couch. They planned and worried and fretted and even though I tried to block it, there was no ignoring the supportive bias in their thoughts. I hated the way the loved me right then.

The girl was gone. To a better place. Passed on. Slipped away. All those useless descriptions that all mean dead, dead, dead. Killed with my bare hands.

A calculated act, nothing like the wild monster that took over my senses in the woods earlier. I had the _mens rea_ and the _actus reus. _I murdered her, in the hope that I was saving her. SOS. Was that the call of desperation I'd seen in her kiss?

Save our souls. That phrase didn't even really mean that. So many things were victims to common misconception.

Besides, only one of us had a soul.

One pure, innocent soul. Dead and gone. I had to believe it was the right thing to do. I saved her, right? From a non-life of blood and thirst and eternal damnation. She was better than that, better off in heaven where she belonged. An angel.

Textbook phrases were heard in my ears, my own mental voice reading clinical tomes. The seven signs of death.

_Pallor mortis._

For people as light skinned as Isabella Swan, the skin begins to pale almost immediately after death. She had been fair in life, milky white skin that hinted at delicacy and vitality beneath the surface.

Now, her skin was taking on the ashy grey colour of a boiled carcass. I still couldn't take my eyes off her, as she paled before my eyes and perversely I still found beauty in her appearance.

Her flesh was whiter than mine. I wondered if my sharp cheeks had taken on that slight glow, the one that came with the energy of warm blood. A watered down version of her blush. I remembered the rosy hue on her cheeks, the ones that would never blush again.

_Algor Mortis_

Already, Isabella's body was cooling beneath me. A human wouldn't have noticed the drop in temperature but I mourned the loss of every single degree of warmth.

I couldn't let her go and waited until her body was cold before I moved even an inch.

The others had all returned and were gathered around the dining table downstairs. They planned and discussed our options. The subterfuge necessary to hide protect me from my crime and us from exposure.

I would raise no objections to their plans. I had a body to conceal.

Disentangling myself from twisted sweaty sheets, I left her deathbed.

Conversation downstairs ceased at my movement and Alice dashed to my side, wringing her hands. She was the designated helper; sent to make sure I didn't leave any evidence. I didn't greet her or look at her. I hardly acknowledged her presence.

"I need her jacket." she murmured too gently.

I froze. I was busy zipping it closed.

"Why?" It was hard for me to choke out that one syllable.

"Evidence," she explained, rifling through a drawer. "The search party will find it and believe there was an animal attack. It's better this way. Kinder her to her father…"

"Fine." I cut her off and removed the jacket. It was cold now too.

"Here-" When Alice took the coat, she handed me a sheet. "I see you want to do this alone. Wrap her in this. Be discreet. Don't let anything fall. Keep a listen out for passers-by, they might be searching already."

"Already? She…school hasn't even been out that long."

Alice looked out the window pointedly. It was pitch dark.

"Do what you have to do. We'll take care of things here." she said and left.

I kept staring at the infinite night sky.

Downstairs Esme was preparing cleaning supplies and considering new carpets. I shook out the sheet in my hands.

Isabella Swan was to be buried in four hundred thread count Egyptian cotton.

_Livor Mortis_

When the heart no longer beats, blood settles and gives a bluish tint to the skin. Comparable to the circles under my eyes - but all over.

I left through the window, feeling too animalistic to put on a human façade. Or maybe I just didn't want to face my family downstairs. Still, I could hear their thoughts through the glass wall. I was mirrored in their minds and I did not like my reflection.

I went straight towards the river that bordered our property. My intention was to get as far away from that blasted school as necessary and escape all thoughts while I was at it.

But as I made the leap over the water, gravity and the wind disturbed the make-shift shroud. It exposed the crown of her head. Her hair was matted and the light of the moon shone a halo on her locks. The irony of the image was not lost on me.

A single leaf flitted loose and glided to the surface of the river below before being lost to the murky depths.

It struck me then, that the corpse was filthy and I did not like this fact. It did not match with the clean innocent memory of the girl. Granted, her essence was gone - her soul.

But surely she deserved the respect of…what?

A proper burial on consecrated ground was not an option.

I hesitated on the river bank, wavering. The wound was closed. I could hide the trail and her father would find her before…

"That's not a good idea Edward." Alice was here. Again.

Why didn't her gift ever work when it mattered?

"That would arouse too much suspicion - the police, the Quileutes. It won't look like an animal attack. It'll seem like murder."

"It was murder." I replied.

Alice sighed. "We cannot be associated with this. Please, Edward. You know this. We've been here before."

She began to remember a vision of brown curls and red eyes, but caught herself. Perhaps that was why they sent her - she was good at controlling her thoughts.

"Do you see how I was right?" I asked her suddenly. "You must do. Don't you?"

Her reply was blunt. "No. Not really. But I see why you think so."

With the corner of my sleeve, I wiped some a smudge from the corner of the forehead, where the shroud had slipped. Underneath, the skin was a sickly mauve.

"Let me," spoke Alice. "I'll wash her before you go any further."

She held out her hands to me. I cradled the bundle closer to my chest.

"Please," Alice almost begged. "I know what you want. Please. She was going to be my friend too."

I acquiesced. I turned my back and shut my eyes while my sister cleaned blood, sweat and grime from the body of my victim.

My mind was closed. I didn't want to watch - it seemed too voyeuristic, too invasive. But still I _saw. _Glimpses of mottled flesh, angry bruises and how long it took for Alice to untangle her hair.

I wondered idly, if Isabella had ever been baptised and what prayers would have been said at the ceremony.

Alice covered her face for the last time and I willed myself not to look again. It was ingrained in my memory anyway.

"Thank you, Alice." There was a lump in my throat.

"_Anytime is the wrong reply," _she thought wryly.

"Burying her under running water is a good idea," she told me instead. "No-one searches there."

I didn't correct her assumption and waited for her to leave before continuing on my one-man funeral cortage.

_Rigor Mortis._

Loosely defined as the contraction of muscles, leading to stiffness of the body. I knew all about that.

After the burial, I went home and showered. Boiling water washed muck and blood and all the other remnants of the day down the drain. I scrubbed my nails until there wasn't a speck of dirt left beneath them and then I used the brush on my body.

When I emerged from the steamy cocoon, the clothes I had discarded were gone from the floor of my room. A small bonfire flickered through my window, struggling to stay alight against a torrent of rain.

The cool leather of my couch stuck to my wet skin. I resigned myself to dressing in clothes that did not touch her. The scent was almost gone to the others, masked by air and bleach. But it was in me and about me and I doubted I would ever forget it.

I would not look in the mirror.

Rain pounded on the window, streaming down glass in jagged lines. It continued relentlessly and I remembered the taste of her tears. If every drop represented unshed tears, it would not be enough.

My body felt stiff in a way that was alien to my unnatural state. My limbs wouldn't move the way I wanted them to. My brain was too loud. Particles of dust landed on my skin and itched me. Her blood gave my muscles too much power, too much energy. They were coiled tight and ready to spring. I wanted to feel weak.

If I had a different nature, I would have given in to temptation and the urge to go downstairs and lie in the sheets she died in.

I wanted the lingering scent even fresher in my nose and the memory of her body beneath mine.

I wanted to go down to my piano - to hammer out the rage or relay that eerie melody that kept ringing in my ears.

I wanted to throw objects around in temper - to smash glass and punch around me and shatter my physical world to it's foundations.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted the release of sobbing real tears.

I wanted the relief of sleep.

I got none of what I wanted. So I simply lay on my couch, as stiff as a board, and waited for the new day to dawn.

_Decomposition._

The tissue of all dead things breaks down to simpler matter over time. We were no exception.

I had to go to school the next day and the days that followed that, for the sake of remaining inconspicuous and out of consideration for my family.

The car journeys were silent. Rosalie refused to let me drive. On the first day, I was thrown to see the ugly red truck still in the parking lot. If I'd been at the wheel, we would have crashed into it.

Rosalie just parked as far away as possible and Emmett held my attention in his thoughts so I wouldn't have to look. Everyone else in the area stared at it.

The school was abuzz with rumours and crocodile tears. I heard all the opinions - good and bad. We all had to speak to Mark, the earnest officer in charge of the case. He wasn't suspicious when I informed him I knew nothing. No-one had.

The search went on for two days. And though I knew they would find nothing, still I feared. The whole town got out to help. This was the biggest thing to happen in decades. Emmett and Jasper even volunteered and they may have fabricated some convenient animal tracks. Or maybe it had been decided that the heavy rain had washed away any potential evidence. I had stopped listening to details but my cursory looks into the minds of the police force had confirmed they had no leads.

I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a relief when they called off the search.

I did consider going to Alaska despite the timing. My unwillingness to cause any more hurt to Esme was the only thing to prevent me. And it only barely did. Since leaving was avoidable and the other actions weren't, I chose to stay.

I wasn't ready to leave her behind yet.

Also, I was never any good at coping without my family. The ones I had been pushing away and avoiding. I only saw them in school really.

Biology was hard. On the first day, everyone stared at the empty seat. Michael Newton, remembered my bizarre behaviour the previous day but did not associate with the disappearance. He was more concerned with his own missed opportunities.

Humans were selfish like that.

When death was declared, the students grieved. Youths are always shocked when faced with their own mortality. In their minds, they glorified and beatified the girl. Remembered her as prettier and funnier than she was. The missed someone they never knew, who hardly touched their lives.

The immortal murderous seventeen year old who walked among them could identify with that.

-

The following week, Isabella Swan's cameo appearance in Forks became old news. An astute student compared her to the victim killed off at the beginning of a horror movie.

So I no longer had to hear about how Charlie Swan was a broken man. Though the memory of him finally coming to remove her truck from the parking lot would haunt me forever. He came while class was in session, and he was full of quiet jumbled thoughts. Bitter over a fall out with his friend and something about his ex-wife. I couldn't quite catch what he was thinking - grief did that to people.

But I saw too much with my heightened senses and witnessed him sob with his head on the steering wheel until a bell rang and he drove away.

That parking spot became the location for a new tragedy and gave the good people of Forks a new loss to rubberneck at.

One icy morning, Tyler Crowley lost control of his van. It skidded into a vacant car and he died on impact. It was horrible. We had to restrain Jasper. Ben Cheney shredded the skin on his arms on broken glass in a valiant attempt to save his friend.

The scent hardly appealed to me at all.

At any rate, there was a new tragedy. The populace had grown up with this person and watched him die in front of their eyes. There was a tangible loss, real grief and an actual body.

I was relieved to get a day off school so I could visit that place. Though the endless torture of being alone was definitely harder than school.

Counsellors were brought in and offered to all. A forest ranger and a motoring expert gave talks on safety. Curriculums were modified to remove anything offensive. In English, Emily Dickensen was decided too morbid. We were to study Frost instead; a poet usually reserved for the senior classes. They waffled on about roads and woods and fire and ice.

The analysis could have made me scream with boredom, if only for the pervasive memory of warm pliant lips on mine that could not be suppressed.

The teacher called on me unexpectedly, interrupting my wicked reverie. He hoped that my class participation might match the standard of my homework. Even was bored with inane descriptions of assonance and alliteration. He waited for me to tell him which was the most effective poem so far. I hadn't done the reading. I knew it all by heart.

"Out, Out." I told him. My voice sounded strange in my ears. The first time I'd heard it in while.

He waited for me to tell him why.

"The closing line," I explained. "_And they, since they were not the one dead, turned to their affairs."_

He did not call on me again.

-

It was decided that the school would hold a joint memorial service. Attendance was mandatory. Volunteering to help was optional. Since it meant free classes, there was no shortage of assistance.

I was in study hall alone, thinking about what I'd done. That was all I ever thought about. I agonised over my choice. I tortured myself with Alice's fruitless visions. I hated myself for what I had done and who I had become.

"_Shoot. I didn't think there would be anyone else in here," _The thoughts of Angela Weber reached me and she peered through the door._ "Has he seen me? I better go in. If only he wasn't so intimidating…"_

She entered the classroom and sat three rows away. I was a little surprised that the preachers daughter wasn't involved in the service. I would have thought she'd be leading the choir.

She was tall and she bumped her knee under the desk. She winced and in that moment she seemed so young, so human, so like…

"Um…Edward?" she asked nervously. She was right to be nervous. Look what happened to the last girl I was alone with.

It was a huge effort to lift my head and answer. "Yes?"

"Did anyone take attendance?" she asked.

I shook my head. "There's a sign in sheet on the desk."

"Thanks." she replied. I prayed, not that any God would listen to me, that she would not ask me anything else.

"You're not helping with the service." she observed.

Angela was kind but she was not that bright.

"My sisters did the flowers," I answered blandly. I had shaken my head when Alice considered freesia. The invoice was delivered to our house the previous afternoon while I was ditching biology - several thousand dollars worth of lilies and roses. Far too much for the makeshift altar in the gym. I paid over the phone with my credit card.

"I saw them," she answered. "They're lovely."

She knew I was avoiding something - but she was concerned and curious rather than suspicious. I wanted to tell her she was wasting her sympathy on me. She bit her lip and twirled her ponytail. I spoke again to get her to stop that.

"Aren't you helping?" I asked. "Isn't your father leading it?"

"He is, in a non-denominational non-biased way." she replied with a tinge of disdain. "I will attend of course, I have to. But it's turning into a circus and I'd rather pay my respects in my own way."

I tried to give her a small smile but my mouth was unaccustomed to moving that way. She got a grimace that unnerved her.

"At least you're not a hypocrite." I mused.

In her head, Angela came to a realisation about why I wasn't there. But she disagreed with my statement.

"I am." she told me. "I say nothing and I will play the doting daughter at the service. That is as hypocritical as anyone else. But I've prayed. I've spoken to my father about it. I've asked for God's forgiveness."

"What do _you _need forgiveness for? What could you have possibly done wrong" I asked, without thinking. Hers was one of the kindest minds I'd ever encountered. If she was a sinner, what did that make me?

"I've done many things wrong. We all do. But God knows when intentions were pure. And if I ask, and I mean it, then He will forgive me." she stated resolutely.

Well, at least she had hope for redemption. It was too late for me. But oh, how I wanted to believe her.

Angela got flustered - embarrassed by the way she had spoken to me. I couldn't look at the blush that crept up her neck. I put my head back down on the desk and the conversation was over.

But still, I couldn't ignore her thoughts.

"_He looks so different. He's normally so composed. He's an orphan, these deaths may have affected him more than he lets on. He's been unravelling before my eyes…haunted."_

From then on, I tried harder to be normal. I put my mask back on. I spoke with more care. I hunted regularly. I went back to listening for errant thoughts that could expose us. I made an effort for the sake of my family.

I almost slipped once. I went to the Swan residence in the dead of the night. I lingered on the upstairs windowsill and breathed in her nearly gone scent. I thought about what it would be like to touch her things and look at the scattered books and lie on her bed.

But I stopped myself. I was trying to do the right thing, though that never worked out for me.

I went to the meadow instead.

The meadow was my own little secret. I was the only one in the family that had any. They never pried though they all wondered about where I had been sneaking off to. They made wrong assumptions that I didn't bother to correct or explain.

I went there everyday and lay on the dewy grass. Sometimes I hummed, sometimes I was quiet.

I spoke out loud- in hushed reverent tones. I told about my day and my non-life and things that were significant and inconsequential.

I replayed the kiss over and over again in my head, revelling in the depravity.

Flowers began to bloom. Animals awoke in the forest. Worms burrowed in the soil.

Some days, I hated myself. Others, I tried to forgive myself.

I tried to tell myself I was right and that at least she was at peace. I would never be.

Sometimes, I deluded myself into thinking I felt something there. A presence. _Her. _but I knew I was not going to get that mercy.

When the decomposition process is over, skeletonization occurs. It can take months or years but eventually, everything is sold again. Just missing important parts.

In the meadow, I saw myself for what I truly was. A monster who tried - and failed- to do the right thing.

I learned to live with the consequences of my actions. I was ugly, surrounded by beauty. I was alone with my thoughts.

And I was sure, without the shadow of a doubt, that two wrongs could never make a right.

Six feet beneath me a body lay rotting. Isabella Swan - the only girl who would ever touch my heart.

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_Thanks for reading! I hope my morbidness was not too disturbing for you all. Sorry for any possible typos. Again, feedback is most welcome. I would love some more reviews for this. I'll also answer any questions you may have. _

_Edit- I thought it was clear but I must have been mistaken. The story is complete. That's all folks.  
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